


Drowning

by fleetfoot1



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Dick Grayson Whump, Dick Grayson is Robin, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt No Comfort, he thinks hes a grown up but really hes just struggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleetfoot1/pseuds/fleetfoot1
Summary: Dick just wanted to prove he could handle a job on his own. So naturally, it all had to fall apart.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> sooo I was planning on continuing this, but I start school in a few days and it probably won't happen. so now this is a short, one chapter, hurt no comfort fic.

Bruce had been testing Dick’s patience all damn month. 

First with the constant questioning of “Do you know how to do that?” or “Are you sure this is the right way?” which had evolved into, “I’m really not sure if you can handle that,” and “You’re not capable of pulling something like that off.” 

The words were suffocating, permeating nearly every single thing he did, and Bruce’s disapproval and blatant distrust honestly had Dick on the verge of snapping every single time they interacted with each other. 

He was seventeen and had eight years of vigilantism under his belt. So Dick knew how to do things and was capable of handling his own cases, thank you very much. 

And to prove that, Dick was currently perched on a building above the docks, tugging his cape tighter around his shoulders in an attempt to keep himself warm for a case that Bruce had called “too much for you to handle on your own.”

It was just a weapons bust. Not even a particularly large one. Dick could handle it just fine. 

Part of Dick heard Bruce’s and Alfred’s voice screaming in his head about irresponsibility, and that he was literally proving Bruce’s point. But Dick wasn’t just going in screaming and punching everything in sight. He was surveying. And gathering intel. And he was making a plan. And he’d be damned if it wasn’t a plan worthy of the Batman. 

There were four men walking up and down the dock and six busy with unloading the boxes of weapons from the small boat docked beside them. There were some vague rumors about the job being linked to Black Mask, but the evidence had been so sparse that Bruce had all but dismissed it from the case files. _And if it’s not good enough for Bruce, who am I to question it?_ Dick thought, trying in vain to use his cape as a blanket and keep his teeth from chattering too loudly. 

If he timed his attack just right, Dick would be able to take out the boat driver after all the weapons were unloaded, ensuring that none of them would get away, then dump the entire stock pile into the harbor and render it useless. The 10 men present were on a pretty wide rotation, so if things stayed quiet enough, Dick should be able to take them out in chunks and catch them off guard one at a time. 

The last box had barely touched down onto the pier when Dick dropped off his gargoyle perch onto the shoulders of the man holding it. He sprang off the man’s back and slammed his head into the ground, knocking him out instantly. He looked up to find two other thugs gaping at him, so he threw a batarang at one to keep him stunned and whipped his leg out in a small arc to sweep out the feet of the other. Both men were out cold in under thirty seconds. 

Dick absently noted that it had begun snowing at some point, the water from the harbor a few feet away casting a chilled wind that had him fighting down fits of shivering. _Maybe grabbing the winter gear would have been worth the risk of getting caught by Alfred before he could sneak out_. Dick ducked into a darkened corner behind some shipping containers, watching as another four men came around the dock to see their companions unconscious in a heap. Mutters of, “It’s the Batman!” had Dick gritting his teeth in irritation, but he kept himself calm, taking down each thug systematically and ducking back into the shadowed section he had been using to keep himself hidden. _Only two left, I’ve got this,_ Dick thought with a shaky exhale. 

When he heard voices creeping up closer to the boxes of weapons, Dick let a smirk take over his face as he jumped out, fully prepared to knock the remaining three men on their asses and go home to rub his victory all over Bruce’s face. 

That smirk momentarily died on his lips when his gaze was met with Black Mask’s, and he found himself surrounded by close to twenty thugs instead of the three he was expecting. _Shit,_ Dick thought frantically. _Shit, shit_ shit. 

A surprised chuckles burst from Black Mask’s lips. “Robin? Seriously? I come to move $500,000 worth of weapons into Gotham, and I can’t even get the attention of anyone more relevant than the Bat-freak’s side-kick?”

_You should have been prepared for anything,_ Bruce’s voice rang in his head. _There was evidence that told you this could happen, and you chose to ignore it_. Dick forced a cocky smile back onto his face. Robin. Not Dick Grayson wearing a mask and hearing Batman’s lectures in his head. “Aw, don’t feel too bad, Sionis. At least you got attention from _somebody_. I wouldn’t want you to feel unappreciated.”

The smile dropped from Black Mask’s face. “Believe me, kid, I get more than enough. In fact, I’d to give you a taste of the _attention_ I’m used to giving out.” he looked at the men surrounding him then. “Grab a gun and take him down.”

Now, make no mistake, Dick was good at what he did. But stopping 20 men, about half of which had grabbed a weapon before Dick managed to kick the open box into the water? He wasn’t quite that good. 

Still, he put up enough of a fight to leave most of them curled up on the ground clutching various body parts, but a collection of bullet wounds to his upper thigh, shoulder, and side of his torso had his head spinning every time he moved a little too fast. One of the thugs got a lucky hit to the back of his head, and Dick barely caught himself on his arms in time to keep his face from slamming against the ground. His arms shook as he tried to force himself up, blood dripping from his nose form a hit he didn’t quite remember taking. 

Dick let out a grunt as a gloved hand fisted itself in his hair, yanking his face up to look at Black Mask adjusting his lapels in front of him. Dick gave him a grin, just to push his buttons a little more. It seemed to work a bit too well, with Mask scowling and punching him across the jaw, making Dick’s head whipping to the side and sending it spinning once again. He spit a mouthful of blood and saliva onto the shiny leather shoes in front of him before lifting his gaze back up. 

“You know, you’re just a kid. I would have given you an easy out. A quick, painless death. But just for that, brat,” he said, taking hold of Dick’s face in a grip hard enough to bruise. “Let’s see how you like drowning.”

“Tie him up,” he snapped, his gaze never leaving Dick’s. “Hands and feet. I don’t want him getting free.”

Two men approached Dick, and his head was still spinning too much to try and stop them as he felt his wrists an ankles being tied together, then to each other so his back was bent backward in an awkward c-shape. He felt himself being picked up, and had a brief revelation of _Shit, Bruce is going to kill me_ , before Sionis’ call of “See ya, Boy Wonder!” cut through his thoughts and he fell through a whiteout of bubbles. 

He must have blacked out for a moment, because when Dick realized he was in the water his lungs were already burning and he couldn’t tell which way was up and _it was so damned cold he could barely focus_. He managed to shimmy his way out of the second layer of ropes tying his wrists to his ankles, the knots being much looser than the first after so many layers of them. He twisted and flailed himself _up, up, up_ as fast as he could, reaching what he thought would be the surface as the burning in his chest reached the point of unbearable. 

It was with growing horror that Dick realized he was trapped under at least a two inch thick sheet of ice, the hole he had been tossed through nowhere in sight. Fuzzy spots of black started to creep into his vision as Dick slammed his hands into the ice, over and over and over again. Dammit, dammit, _dammit_. His hits started to grow weaker despite himself, and Dick was met with the stark realization of, _I’m going to die here, aren’t I? All because I wanted to prove Bruce wrong_ , _and he was right all along anyway._

_A flying Grayson. Drowning. After watching his parents fall to their deaths. That’s a bit of a dark parallel, isn’t it?_ Dick absently thought to himself, vaguely noticing that his shivers had subsided for the first time all night. He hazily recalled Alfred drilling into his head that that wasn’t a good thing. Dick gave one last weak attempt to break through the ice, watching it crack the slightest bit but holding firm. He found himself wishing he’d thanked Bruce one last time instead of picking a fight with him as the world faded around him. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please leave me a comment if you liked it <3  
> feel free to hmu on [tumblr](https://litrally.tumblr.com/)!


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